


Tales of Wolves and Witches, Princesses and Bards

by SourKiddo



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Ciri can ride on his shoulders., Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Bonding, Feelings Realization, Found Family, Geralt has two hands. One for Jaskier and one for Yennefer., Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Not much tho, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Sex, So Are The Rest Of Them, Watch them become a family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22305211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SourKiddo/pseuds/SourKiddo
Summary: The story of how four people, bound by fate, find home in each other.( The story takes place after episode 6 ''Rare Species'' of Netflix's the Witcher. This story is very canon compliant, but Jaskier is part of the story and just as important as Geralt, Ciri and Yennefer. )
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Pavetta, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 17
Kudos: 65





	1. Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier's POV. Takes place after episode 6 of the series.   
> Jaskier is hurt by Geralt as the witcher says some hard words to Jaskier. He spends some time apart from his Witcher, and a familiar face appears.

‘’ If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you of my hands! ‘’

Those words hit Jaskier with such force, that the fuming witcher in front of him could have just as easily driven one of his swords trough the bard’s chest. After that, Jaskier’s head went oddly quiet. Quieter than it had been in years. It took a while before the hurt subsided for long enough that he could utter any words out. 

‘’ ...Right...Err... Right then. ‘’ The bard stammered, pain, confusion and utter sense of loss plastered on his face. He looked at Geralt who had his back turned toward him.  
‘’ I’ll go get the rest of the story from the others, see you around Geralt.. ‘’ Jaskier continued, feeling his throat choking up a little. He turned away before the witcher could see his face. 

The walk back to the camp was a long one. And the inquiry of the battle from the remaining members of their hunt party was a blur. But from the fog could he make out one face, that of Yennefer of Vengerberg. Momentarily light blue eyes met lilac ones and a silent conversation took place in just a few seconds. Jaskier and Yennefer could read the other’s story from the apparent hurt on both of their faces, and paint in the rest of the picture themselves, knowing the other’s history with Geralt.  
The two parted from the camp trough different paths, both hoping for the trio to never see each other again. But a small tug on their heartstrings spoke of a different fate. They all knew somewhere deep inside that this would not be the end, but clouded by their storming emotions, they hoped that would not be the case.

\- A few years later, In a village near Sodden - 

Clink. 

The heavenly sound of a coin woke up Jaskier from his lute-playing. Finally. The bard leaned over to look into his lutecase, but a hopeful smile turned into a dissapointed frown when he saw that it was just a single copper piece. With a sigh, he resumed his playing while he leaned on the wall of the building behind him. His eyes wandered the street in front of him, but didn’t really focus on anything as his hands lifelessly played the lute.  
Disappointing, to be sure. Jaskier once roamed the Continent, playing his lute and singing his songs of the White Wolf everywhere from King’s halls to measly pubs, his songs reaching even the most desolate of places. Now, look at him. Sitting on the street in worn down robes with his lute case open, just a few coppers sitting in the place where there used to be multitudes of golden crowns and ducats. Pathetic.  
But the biggest disappointment, to Jaskier was not his lack of coin, but his inability sing these days. I know, who would’ve thought? Jaskier not able to sing. He used to think that day would come when his ability to breathe went as well.  
But who could blame the bard?  
He had seen so many horrible things since he and Geralt parted ways. The war raged on, worse than ever. Nilfgaardian forces had ruthlessly burnt down entire capitals, murdered innocent lives as they advanced throughout the Continent. Jaskier had seen it all.  
Famine, death, misery.  
And countless other things the bard couldn’t even think about. All these things, along with a certain event in recent years, slowly took away his ability to sing or play with his heart. Now he sang empty words, played hollow tunes. And the people noticed and his coin dried out. Now he was just a faceless, nameless lute-player on the streets of some nowhere village.  
Music had left him. Along with everything else.  
He often heard the grim reminder of days long past, as the people sang of his frien- no, former travel companion. He didn’t like his songs anymore, yet he lifelessly played them anyway. The war had taken so much from everyone. The people needed his music, but he could no longer provide it. 

Clink.

The sound woke up Jaskier again, his stomach rumbling as he leaned over to look into his lutecase in anticipation of maybe getting something to eat tonight. The tired, sunken-in eyes lighted up when the bard noticed the golden gleam of a crown. Yes! Finally some food and a warm place to sleep. The bard reached over to grab the coin but just as he was about to pick up his salvation, a tiny pale hand snatched the golden coin from his case. 

‘’ Oh no you dont! ‘’ Jaskier yelled and grabbed the thief’s hand. 

The person turned around in alarm and Jaskier’s heart stopped when he saw who the person was. A girl, pale one with a full head of curly platinum blonde hair, wearing a dirty blue robe on her frail and tiny body.  
Pavetta.  
No. It couldn’t be. Pavetta was long dead. But the resemblance was uncanny. There was only one other person who that girl could be. 

‘’ Princess Cirilla? ‘’ The bard asked in disbelief.

That seemed to alarm the girl greatly, only confirming his suspicions of her identity. Cirilla struggled herself free of the man’s hand, as he was stuck there, gawking at the little lioness. Jaskier gasped as Ciri ran away, the bard quickly followed her after he grabbed his lute and it’s case, he couldn’t let her slip away. The princess was clearly in danger since the fall of Cintra happened and Jaskier just caught her stealing. She couldn’t be in safe hands if she resorted to stealing. If there was one thing the bard could still do, that would be to protect the child of his long gone friend. 

‘’ Wait! I know you don’t know me but I know you! I can help you! ‘’ He yelled, his voice desperate since the little lion cub was quick with her feet and Jaskier was out of shape and malnourished. 

Ciri disappeared behind a corner far ahead of Jaskier. When the bard finally ran into the street from behind the corner, he saw just platinum hair and a dirty blue coat flutter in the wind as the girl wearing them sped off on a stolen horse.  
No! I have to help her!, The bard thought. He looked around in a hurry, trying to find a way to catch up to her.  
Finally, his eyes landed on a woman who was yelling after the girl, trying to get her to come back with her horse, so she could provide her a safe place. Yes, the two of them had similar intentions and the woman looked kind, so she could surely help Jaskier. Right?

‘’ I’m sorry, can you help me? That girl who stole your horse, please forgive her, is the child of a dear friend of mine who has long passed away. I just saw her and knew I had to protect her! Please, I beg of you kind lady, I must protect her! ‘’ Jaskier rambled to the woman, his breath laboured from the running.  
The woman looked at the gasping and panting bard with a surprised look on her face. This must be a lot to take in in the span of just a few seconds, a girl you don’t know steals your horse and suddenly a dirty bum comes asking for your help and insisting that he knows the girl.  
The woman thought silently for a moment, her eyes evaluating Jaskier’s very being. Finally, she looked at him in the eyes with a warm, yet stern look.

‘’ Get on. ‘’ The woman ordered and got on her other horse, inviting the bard to join her on horseback. 

Jaskier agreed and quickly got on the horse behind the woman. Then the two sped off after the escaping princess. 

‘’ I’m Jaskier by the way. ‘’ The bard introduced himself to the woman.

‘’ Zola. ‘’ she answered, flashing Jaskier a motherly smile from across her shoulder.

Jaskier smiled back, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, his smile was true. He somehow knew that this was supposed to happen. As if Fate was leading him back to his music, his life, his destiny.


	2. Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri's POV.  
> Ciri thinks about her past, and a mysterious new power overthrows her at the mercy of bandits. One becomes two.

The sound of horse hooves thumping on a dirt road filled the air, as a blue cloaked figure rode at full speed out of the city. Sounds of two people, one of a man, one of a woman, yelled after the escaping girl.  
Princess Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the Lion Cub of Cintra just stole a golden coin and a horse. Oh, how her grandmother must stir in her early grave, Ciri thought to herself as she focused on the road ahead of her. 

‘’ I’m sorry for stealing you ‘’ She said to the horse when she had escaped far enough. 

The wayward princess is pretty sure she was followed. The woman had another horse and the man seemed really bent on trying to get to Ciri.  
Who was he anyway? How did he recognise her? Nilfgaard must’ve placed a bounty on her head, great, as if things weren’t bad enough already.  
I must get as far away as possible, find Geralt of Rivia., the girl thought as she continued along the forest path.  
Cirilla’s mind wandered into her past, to her life as a princess. It somehow, in a heartwrenching way, seemed funny to her, that she indeed was a princess. Now she was a thief, a girl on the run, constantly hungry and tired. To be a princess, sleeping on soft feather pillows, having food to eat, with no payment, no fear of getting your fingers cut off.  
It was such an innocent time.  
After seeing firsthand the horror’s of war, the little lion had began to grow into a tiny lioness. No longer naive, trusting, innocent. Happy. A child. Cirilla had grown up a lot on her race towards freedom, guided by cruel destiny. Towards Geralt of Rivia, whoever that was. A witcher she’s heard, whatever that is.  
How funny, Fate was supposed to be trusted. Yet it had done nothing but harm to her, no, her grandparents trying to prevent it? To be honest, the princess didn’t know anymore. She had no guiding light, no one to trust, nowhere to go. Just a name. And fate, if it even exists at all. 

Ciri’s thought’s were interrupted by the sight of a field. Well, at least not another forest. The field had lots of very tall grass, tall enough that Ciri could easily hide in there. It was getting dark anyway, best to settle for the night.  
She stopped the horse at a little clearing in the grass, perfect place to stay for the night. Out of sight.  
She got off her stolen steed, and tied the horse to a little dried up tree next to the camp. She sat down next to the beast, and started to gather things for a fire. The Grass was dry enough that a fire could easily be started. Soon she found herself looking at warm, but dim flames. After the day’s events Cirilla’s stomach was empty, she was tired and lonely.  
‘’ I should’ve stolen some food while I was at it, or traded my ring for it. ‘’ the girl said to the horse. Lonely indeed.  
‘’ You’re right Clop, or are you Clip? ‘’ She continued, breathing out a laugh.  
She looked at the horse with an amused look on her face. Still quietly laughing a little.  
‘’ Gods, what kind of a crazy person talks to a horse? ‘’ Ciri chuckled to herself, or the horse, she wasn’t even sure anymore.  
The princess leaned towards the fire to blow some life into it, it was shaping up to be a cold night. 

Crack.

Ciri’s head snapped up at the noise. Coming from somewhere within the field. Great, now some animal is going to maim her or someone had seen her camp light and was now going to trade Ciri for money, or rob her or possibly even kill her, and who knows what else?  
Great, just great.  
The little lioness picked up the nearest sturdy looking branch and held it up, ready to hit whatever coming her way. She heard more rustling, multiple footsteps, coming toward her. Then she saw shadowy figures in the mist, a sense of dread pooling up in her stomach.  
But the one nearest her, a man, raised up his hands and spoke. 

‘’ It’s alright.. It’s alright.. We’re Cintrans ‘’ the man, or perhaps a boy, spoke.

A wave of realisation hit Cirilla and relief washed over her. 

‘’ Anton! You made it out, you’re alright! ‘’ Ciri said, her voice light and a smile on her face. 

She started walking up to Anton, but froze when she saw the smirks on the men’s faces.

‘’ Told you it was her at the market ‘’ Her former playmate said to his friend near him. That sentence made colour drain from the girl’s face. 

Anton walked up the her and pushed the Ciri out of his way, making his way towards her stolen steed. Panic started to erupt deep within the girl’s chest.

‘’ Hey! What are you doing?! ‘’ the little lion exclaimed, scrambling toward the men trying to steal her already stolen horse.  
‘’ Hey! Stop that, Anton! Please, stop it! ‘’ she continued as she tried to grab the man’s shoulder

‘’ You don’t give the orders anymore, Princess ‘’ Anton said with such venom in his voice, that the look in his eyes stopped Ciri right there as the man grabbed her throat.  
‘’Rumor is, Nilfgaard is looking for you. And willing to pay a barrel of orens, too. ‘’ He continued, looking Ciri dead in the eyes, with a wide grin on his face.  
Ciri stared at her former friend in disbelief and horror, her breath hitching in her throat.

‘’’ I’m sorry for what happened! ‘’ She struggled to apologise , the man pushing her to the ground. Ciri persisted and stood up again stubbornly.  
‘’ I’m sorry if your family got hurt! ‘’ She was pushed down again, the air pushed out of her lungs this time.  
Ciri was now getting desperate.  
‘’ We played knucklebones together. This isn’t you, I know it. ‘’  
The princesses words were met by an aggressive tone in the bandit’s voice.

‘’ You know fuck-all! You thought you were better than us because we let you win? The only thing special about you was the crown on your head. ‘’ Anton said, his voice digging into Cirilla’s very soul. 

Before she knew it, the group of men were attacking her, shoving, pulling, pushing her to make her succumb. Ciri screamed her head off at the men, suddenly her mind going blank and a force of some kind pushed the attackers off of her. Ciri fell to her knees and her vision went black as the world was drowned out by deafening darkness. 

\- The next day - 

Cirilla was woken up by someone blocking the light above her. A figure of a person, no, two people. 

‘’ Come on girl, get up now. ‘’ She heard the voice of a kindly woman, nearly drowned out by the ringing in the princesses ears.  
Ciri looked around her and spotted the man she stole the coin from. Her eyes widening at the man. 

‘’ It’s ok, I’m not mad about the coin. We want to help you. You’re safe with us, I promise. ‘’ The man said, but Ciri’s ears couldn’t focus on his voice, as her eyes moved onto a dead horse, laying on the ground. The horse she stole.  
Cirilla’s blood ran cold in her veins.The woman pulled Ciri up and looked at her with a worried look on her face. 

‘’ What happened? ‘’ She asked. 

As her eyes continued to roam the utterly destroyed field, Ciri saw the last night’s attackers spread all around the field. One on the tree with branches coming out of his chest, many on the ground, some in parts. It was a horrific sight. Ciri’s stomach churned and she felt almost ill.  
‘’ They came for me. ‘’ the shaken girl answered with a hushed voice as she looked at the scene, horror plastered on her face.  
The woman pulled her into a tight hug, one of her hands finding it’s way into Cirilla’s hair, stroking it motherly. 

‘’ Well then, they got what they deserved ‘’ the man spoke behind them, disgust and utter detest in his voice. 

Ciri turned her head to look at the man, seeing that he wasn’t so scary now, as he wasn’t running after her. The two looked at Ciri with such worry and care in their eyes, that she couldn’t help but feel trust toward them. Even though she just met them. 

‘’ You’re safe now, it’s okay. ‘’ The woman spoke in hushed tone.  
‘’ Let me take you both to my home ‘’ She continued, leading Ciri and the man along so they could begin to make their way toward safety. 

All seemed to be okay, at least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! I really tried to keep everything as faithful to the screenplay as possible. See you next week and tell me what you think in the comments! Love you <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii! This is my first fic in a long time, and I'm so excited to share it with you! I hope you like it and I take constructive criticism in the comments. Please be nice tho!  
> This story will have multiple chapters but I haven't decided on a number yet. I'm planning to post a new chapter weekly, but the release may wary because I'm kind of busy and over-stressed. Bare with me and keep tuned! There will be more.


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